Twisted Around His Little Finger
by PotterHeadAndVeryVeryProud
Summary: When Muggle Born's carry on being petrified at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Bliss Murphy is determined to find out who is behind the attacks, not believing for a second that her best friend Tom Riddle has anything to do with it...Oh, how wrong she was.
1. Chapter 1

The tip of my quill tickles my chin as I print out the last sentence of my Transfiguration essay, silently mouthing the words as I write them.

The homework the crusty old teacher had set had definitely proved quite a killer for my class mates, and even I can't help dropping my quill in intense relief, leaning back to nurse my hand. Two hours it had taken for me to complete the 2½ foot long essay on Anamagi and Werewolves; the information overload is making my temples throb.

"There you are! I've been looking _everywhere_ for you, Bliss." Tom breathes in obvious relief, plonking himself down on the seat beside me and snatching the roll of parchment before I can protest.

His nose wrinkles in disgust at first glance, probably because of the word 'Werewolf' at the top in emerald green ink. His eyes travel over my work whilst I tap my foot impatiently, scowling. I love him and all, like every other girl at Hogwarts. But Merlin, he didn't half annoy me sometimes. He locks a gaze over the top of the paper, dark eyes glinting.

"Impressive; for a fourth year." He smirks, leaning back and making the stool tip precariously. I kick him on the shin; nearly ending with him sprawled out on the floor _if_ he hadn't grabbed the edge of the table in time.

Well, it _was_ true. I am in my fourth year; I just hate it when he talks down to me like I'm some little kid. That's probably what he thinks I am anyway; just because he's in the year above. Git.

"Temper, temper, Bliss." He scolds mockingly, a sneer etched over his face.

"Well, you'd know all about temper, wouldn't you, Tom?" I retort, grabbing my homework out of his tight clutch with a snort. He scowls, shooting me an acidic glare.

Most people, had they ran into Tom Riddle and he was giving them the very look he's giving me now, would be bloody petrified but really? _I_ think it just makes him look downright constipated.

"Shut up, Murphy."

"No, thank you, Riddle."

He casts me a withering look as I sling my satchel over my shoulder, shaking his head slightly. I roll my eyes.

"Was there any reason for you 'looking everywhere' for me, by the way?"

"Just for your company, though I'm starting to regret that decision." He growls, falling in to step beside me as I stalk out of the library.

"Well, I _am_ sorry to disappoint you." I say dryly, skipping down the crumbling steps to the depths of the castle.

"You should be. _I _had to give up a snogging session with Miriam to find you." He huffs, blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes.

I snort in disbelief. _How _Tom manages to wind every girl around his little finger I'll never know. I mean, half the time he isn't even _trying._ It's not like he's trying too with me, I just kind of fell for him anyway. I mean that literally; in first year I'd fallen over (quite a lot, I'm _very_ clumsy) some old tree root, directly where Tom was. He helped me up, of course; the little gentleman.

Miriam Montgomery is an extremely loud and ridiculously bossy Slytherin in his year, famous for her cruel personality and sneer to match; wiry hair that looked like a horse's tail. Attractive.

Well, _Tom_ obviously seems to think so.

He cocks his head to the side, observing me with a _very _peculiar expression. I cover my face self-consciously. What, did I have ink on my nose or something?

"She asked me out, Miriam I mean."

"How _fascinating_." I drawl, hissing 'Serpent' at the apparently solid brick wall we'd come to a stop in front of. The stone parts directly down the middle, allowing his access to the Slytherin with a long, grinding sound as granite grinds against granite. "Why are you telling me this?" To my amazement, he blushes; his face still somehow remaining in a cold glower. The talent of Tom Riddle, everybody; making two expressions at _once._

"Because you're my friend?"

"How depressing it must be for you. Your only friend happens to be both a girl, _and_ a year younger than you."

"So what? You're more interesting and clever than the prats in my year." He says quietly and I blink. Blimey, I'd expected some snide comment or something. He shakes himself slightly, raking a hand through his hair with a small sigh.

"So do you think I should?"

"Do I think you should what?"

"Oh, for the sake of Salazar, Bliss!" He snarls venomously. "Do you think I should date Miriam?" It amuses me highly when I piss him off.

I shrug. "I don't really care, to be honest, Tom." He glares at me, his face scowling.

"Bugger off."

"_You_ were the one who came to find _me,_ idiot." I snort, spinning in a circle. If looks could kill, I would be _very_ dead right now. Dead meat.

"Hi, Tom!"

I'm pushed roughly as Miss Slag of the Century herself flounces over, practically falling on top of Tom in her haste. I glare at her from my sprawled position on the floor. Her skirt is _way_ too short; it could even be a fairly large belt.

"Oh, hey, Miriam." He grins, showing his perfect set of dazzling white teeth. Forget about me then, why don't you. I scramble to my feet, dusting off my skirt to fall back on the settee beside Darius, who's complete engrossed in some book he's reading. He cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Are you okay?"

"Never better." I sniff into the Daily Prophet, the sound of lips smacking together in my ears. He snorts, putting an arm around my shoulders. He locks his steely grey eyes with my blue pair, smiling at me kindly like a friend _should_.

"If you say so, sweetheart."


	2. Chapter 2

I never let anyone see me cry. Nobody. I don't cry very often, maybe once a year, if that. But when I do, the sobs make me double over, shudder through me and make my insides twist together.

And that's what I have now, crying silently into my lukewarm cup of tea, my tears making the once sweet liquid turn salty. No one can see me now either, of course. Well, just some house elves, but I am in _their_ work area so I don't really care.

Even though the kitchens are in a rather cold part of Hogwarts, the large room is always warmed by the burning log fires at either corner, the smell of food wafting about everywhere you go. At Christmas, the smell is _especially_ divine; the cinnamon spices hanging here and there; big chocolate yule logs hovering in mid-air. It's just amazing.

I don't know what I'd do without magic.

I almost drop my cup when the ear splitting scream echoes down the passageways, cut off worryingly abruptly. What in the name of Merlin?

The house elves are all in a dither around the kitchen, some of them picking up the smashed plates that many of them had accidently let plummet out of there tiny hands. The others still have their palms clasped over their abnormally large, bat like ears, face full of concern.

I dry my eyes on the hem of my skirt and stand up, albeit a little shakily, and remove my wand out from behind my ear. I wasn't taking _any_ chances. Ignoring the worried cries from the elves, I stalk out of the room, the painting shutting softly behind me.

In the dark, the castle is even more spooky and beautiful, the moon glowing through the windows; casting shadows over everything in its gleam.

I squint through the shadows and almost slap my head. What am I _doing_? I'm a bloody Witch!

"Lumos Maxima." I utter, light exploding outwards from the tip of my wand. Well, nothing _here_, anyway. I check behind the corners for anything remotely creepy and all I see is a very large spider, scuttling out between a crack in the stone.

If there's one thing I dislike, its spiders. I mean sure, we let them live so that they can kill flies that annoy the hell out of you but seriously? Why do they have eight legs? Maybe then I'd like them; if they didn't look like they were from another planet, that is.

I trudge onwards, padding up the staircase to the second floor. Well, nothing strange here, anyway, just Myrtle, a Ravenclaw in my year; sobbing in the girls toilets. I poke my head around the door as I go past.

"Myrtle, did you hear a scream earlier?" I frown, narrowing my eyes around the room. Dingy and damp, as always, but something doesn't seem quite right. Seriously spooked, I whirl around; sure I can see someone in the shadows. I squint and realise it's nothing. Just another spider. Myrtle opens the cubical door, gingerly, face bright red and blotching; circular glasses askew.

"Oh, yes. Yes, I did." She nods, jutting her bottom lip out. "Here I was, minding my own business because those silly boys in _Slytherin_, Darius and Leander were picking on me and-"

"What about the _scream_, Myrtle?" I fight the urge to roll my eyes, contenting myself with biting the inside of my cheek. It was _very _difficult to like Myrtle, with her constant whining and complaining. She's a big know it all in Ravenclaw house and, to be honest, I don't even know anyone who's _friends_ with the poor girl.

"I think it came from upstairs. Yes, I'm ninety percent positive it was from somewhere up there but, then again, the other ten percent-"

"Thanks!" I say loudly, bolting away from the door and up another staircase, slightly out of breath. Blimey, that girl could talk for _England_, honestly.

I round the corner and stumble forwards into the waiting arms of Tom Riddle. His face is utterly furious, eyes flashing red in rage.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here, Bliss? Get. Back. To. Bed." He snarls, gripping my wrist tightly and shaking me slightly. I try to wriggle free but his clutch tightens, making my hand go numb. "Go back to the common room, Bliss. _Please."_ He whispers, his voice softer, pleading. I notice the edge of desperation in his tone and I narrow my eyebrows.

"Why? I heard a scream, so I came up to investigate and-"

"Bliss, seriously. It's not safe! Go to bed, right _now_ or-"

"Tom? Miss Murphy? What on _earth _are you doing out of bed at _this _hour, for heaven's sake?" We just about jump out of our skins as Proffesor Slughorn raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised to see two of his students wandering around the castle. His sleeping cap is slightly askew, wand out and clearly nervous. I look down at my shoes.

"I, er-"

"She was with me, Sir. She had a detention and got lost, so I came to find her when I noticed she wasn't in our common room." Tom speaks out, puffing out his chest so that his Prefect badge glints in the moonlight. I roll my eyes slightly. What a lick-ass.

"Oh, well then. Good job Tom, my boy. But now, you really ought to get back to bed. Both of you." He claps Tom on the shoulder, a crinkling smile lining his face as Dumbledore thunders past, wand in his grip.

"Horace, quickly. You're needed up the hall." He says perfectly calmly, though his eyes train with Tom's, clearly not surprised in the slightest to see us out of bed.

"Of course, Albus. Right away, of course! You two; go." He adds sternly to us, pointing down the staircase before hurrying up the corridor, cloak billowing out around him. Tom prods me, steering me down one step before I stop, turning back to face him. He catches my questioning look and sighs, holding up his hand to silence me.

"No questions, Bliss. I'm tired, and I want to go to bed. Now, come _on_." Before he can catch hold of my sleeve I slip past, running through the hall and skidding to a stop to observe the scene, out of the gaze of the teachers. There, flat on his back, face a mask of terror lays Darius; his auburn hair slicked across his face. I wonder why he's not moving; his face looks very much alive, yet he's stone still, like a statue…

"He's been Petrified." Tom hisses in my ear, clearly bored, like he already knew this. A small handful of teachers gather around him, whispering anxiously. I take a step forward, trying to hear what the adults are saying but Tom puts his arms out, pulling me backwards roughly and steering me away from the scene silently.


	3. Chapter 3

About a thousand and one questions spring to my mind as I trudge along next to Tom, utterly perplexed.

His hands are curled up into fists at his sides; his knuckles look like they're about to tear through his _skin._ I can see his jaw pulsing slightly as he grits his teeth, his face flushed with rage.

As soon as we step into the common room, all hell breaks loose.

He shoves me up against the wall, holding me at arm's length as he tries to control his bubbling anger. It doesn't work.

"Have you any idea how bloody stupid you were tonight, you silly, _silly_ girl!" He snarls, spit raining down across my face. I gape at him, stunned. I mean, sure, everyone got angry sometimes. But Tom looked, well, _deranged_.

"Wh-"

"Are you completely out of your _mind_, Bliss?!"

"I just heard a scream and-"

"Darius is a Mudblood!" He snaps, eyes flashing red and his lip curling up into an ugly sneer. "A filthy, rotten Mudblood! Only people like _him_ become Petrified, Bliss." He grunts cooly. "He deserved what he got."

I blink, fury prickling in my eyes. I surprise even myself and let out a torrent of laughter, glaring at Tom's smirking face.

"You're one to talk about blood purity, Tom Riddle." I smile sweetly and his famous mocking expression disappears automatically. "The last _I _heard, your father was a Muggle and your own Mum couldn't even look after you." I say bitterly, scowling. Hurt flickers through his gaze for about a millisecond before he recovers, cold fury masking his face.

"Says the girl whose Mother chose to run off with a Werewolf and leaving her wailing, defenceless baby to the rain."

The insult takes me off guard, his words cutting through me like daggers. He looks guilty as I take a step away from him, my lip trembling slightly.

"Bliss, wait! I'm s-"

I thunder away from him, safe in the knowing that I would never ever talk to Tom Marvelo Riddle again.


	4. Chapter 4

"Which one, Bliss?"

I look over the brim of the Daily Prophet, scrutinizing the dresses Lisette is holding out, face flushed with cold. Snow had dusted Hogwarts and everywhere around it white, like icing sugar on a cake. Which surely only meant one thing. Christmas. And, of course, the festive dance to go with it.

"Bliss?" Lissy groans, waving the robes in the air dramatically, evidently ending my daydreams. I sigh, folding the newspaper up and narrowing my eyebrows at the dresses.

One is a moss green gown, simply netted to around the knees. Silver ribbon twines around the waist, holly sticking to the layers to add to the Christmas theme.

The other is definitely- er -a tad more _fluorescent_. Bright lime and silky, it looks like just one giant bogey. Bloody ghastly. Yuck.

"That one." I nod towards the darker of the two, burying my head back into the newspaper. If there's one thing I hate more than spiders and HIM, it's shopping.

"Good, because I'm buying it for you." She grins, darting to the till before I even have a chance to process her words. Little idiot.

"You shouldn't of, Lisette." I groan as she hands the bag over to me, snow sticking to my coat. She rolls her eyes, shivering, and drags me into Honeydukes.

The smell of hot fudge and cinnamon hits my senses hard as soon as we tumble through the doors. Honeydukes sweet shop had to be one of the best places in the world. Seriously.

We gape at the crammed shelves in awe and slowly, but surely, the Galleons weighing down my pockets disappear one by one as we go a little bit over board on chocolate.

"I thought we could get Darius something." Lissy claps her hands together, scanning the room for a suitable gift.

Like Tom had said, Darius was fine. He'd gone to St Mungo's for a while but, according to his frequent owls, he was right as rain. He never came back to Hogwarts, though. He'd transferred to Durmstrang under the influence of his parents…

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened since the attack. Trust me; I'd kept my eyes peeled for months, ears strained in case of some cry for help or something.

But, no. Nothing had happened.

I still find it bizzare that ol' Dippet never found out who, or even _what_, had Petrified Darius. I don't even think he cares.

"Are you listening, Bliss?" Lisette sighs, cutting her babble short with a stern look at me. I grin sheepishly as she pays for an extra-large batch of Chocolate Frogs, swooping out of the shop and into the bustle of the street.

"Sorry, Lissy. What were you saying?"

"I _said _that Tom's on his own again. Look." She points to someone stalking past us in a black duffel coat, hair damp with snow. I look down at my shoes and she groans, shoving me slightly. "You're not _still_ mad at him, are you? Look, Bliss, you know he didn't mean to say that. Boys say first and think later… Trust me."

"What, are you secretly a boy?" I smirk and she rolls her eyes, buffing me on the arm.

"And anyway, _you_ did offend him first." She bites her lip. "So, I'd consider you even? Come on, it's Christmas! You can't me annoyed at the poor boy forever."

"Poor boy?" I snort, crossing my arms. "Poor boy? Lisette, he didn't even care that Darius had been turned into bloody stone!"

"Well, I can see _why._" She says in an oddly misty voice. I raise my eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She smirks and I glare at her, shaking my head. "He's madly in love with you, idiot." Lisette points at me, a knowing glint in her eye. I blush, hiding behind my hair. Blimey, she doesn't half have a bitter side. Obviously he doesn't like me.

"Yes, like you're in love with Slughorn." I gag and she makes a puking noise behind her hand, laughing.

"You can't fight it forever, dearie. It's _destiny_, you and Tom."

I shake my head, snorting. She's scary, my friend. Scary, but cool.

**Bliss,**

**Look, I know you don't want to talk to me, which is fine; I get why. And I know you will probably watch this burn in the fire with satisfaction in about a second but just read this… please?**

**I'm really truly sorry that I upset you, Bliss. Really, I am. I was just, well, just worried, I guess. Maybe I thought it would knock some sense in to you… Hell, maybe I didn't think? No, I didn't think and I'm sorry.**

**I should have shown a tad more sympathy to Darius than I did, because I didn't show him any at all, actually, and I know you love him and stuff… **

**Look, I just really miss my best friend, okay? I miss you, Bliss. **

**Merry Christmas, by the way.**

**Tom.**

The letter was slid under our door at some point in the night because when I woke up, that was the first thing I slipped over on. Definitely not the last, either. Lisette nagged me all bloody morning through the Headmasters tremendously boring speech. And afterwards, too, in Transfiguration; Dumbledore took points away because she was being so loud.

So, finally, as I flick boredly through my wad of homework, I decide to reply.

_**Well, er, hi Tom.**_

_**Amazingly, I didn't burn it. I know; I must be ill or something. **_

_**I know you're sorry and I'm really sorry too, I guess. I shouldn't have said that rubbish about blood purity and your family and stuff. Well, you did start the blood purity thing and you know me; I do love a good debate. **_

_**I am quite sensible you know, Tom. You were just looking out for me and I took it the wrong way, so I'm sorry for that, too.**_

_**Darius is fine, by the way, like you said. I don't even know why I got so mad at you, really. I guess it was just because you didn't care and, well, if it had been me and I was Petrified…**_

_**And what in the name of Salazar! . .DARIUS. Okay? I mean, sure, he was one of my best friends and all that but you'll always me by number one guy, you idiot. **_

_**I miss you too, Tom. Merry Crimbo!**_

_**Love Bliss.**_

_**P.S ~ Apology accepted.**_

I ball the note up and hurl it across the library where Tom is sat, stony faced and absorbed in some book he's reading. It hits the side of his head and I look away, grinning.

Now I really should do my essay. Sadly.

Five minutes later a new message was back again, landing in my lap as I tried to copy out a star chart for Astronomy.

**Blimey, are you alright? You might want to go to the nurse or something.**

**You silly girl, you don't have to be sorry Bliss! I'm the oldest out of us so I take responsibility for our stupid argument, alright?**

**Yes, I know you are. I was just being an over protective git. **

**And ha, I told you so! I am quite smart, y'know, dear. I know, I know, I feel like a right prat, Bliss. Of course I would've of cared if it had been you, stupid! How can you think that?! You're practically my family, and as close to a sister as I'm going to get…**

**Oh… Don't you? I was getting ready to have the 'talk' with him soon, but I guess I can't now, seeing as he's moved school and you don't love him… **

**And good, I'm glad. Always remember that no matter how many times Miriam throws herself at me, YOU will always be MY number 1 girl, love.**

**Miss you more, doll.**

**Tom x**

**P.S ~ Um, are we actually going to end up talking, or are we just going to chat through notes?**

_**Silly boy, aren't you? Not as smart as you say, you div…**_

_**WELL, we're friends now aren't we? So, yes, I s'pose we can talk; this way is hurting my hand…**_

_**Blissssss x**_

"So, how are you?" Tom's purring voice in my ear makes me jump about a mile out of my seat and him bark out a laugh, plonking down onto the stool beside me. I scowl, buffing him on the arm. It was weird how, well, _different_ he looked. His dark hair had grown quite a lot over the months, and was now hanging over his eyes lazily until he rakes it back with his hand. His shoulders had broadened out considerably from how scrawny he was at the start of the year and, well, there's only one way to describe him. Phwoar.


	5. Chapter 5

"For goodness _sake_, Tom." I grumble; tugging on his school robes. "Can you bloody hurry up and ask someone to the ball already? Miriam's driving me crazy, and a bunch of other silly, hopeful girls." I jerk my thumb over my shoulder to the gaggle of fangirls trailing around at his footsteps, all giggling and whispering excitedly. With only 2 days left until the big Christmas dance, the stupid groupies were giving me a headache. He winks at them and they all squeal like over excited puppies, flushed beet red. Eugh. Try and be a tad more subtle, _please. _He turns back to look at me, grinning apologetically.

"Sorry, Bliss. Blimey." He ruffles my hair and I scowl, poking my tongue out at him. "Look, I will, alright? But none of _them_." He wrinkles his nose and I swat him on the arm, laughing.

"You're mean, Tom Riddle."

"Well, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, love." He smirks, dark eyes twinkling. I roll my eyes, snorting into my hand.

"Who said _that_?"

"Me." He flicks his hair and disappears into the sea of capes with a wave of his hand. Idiot.

"So, what did he say?"

"Is he going to pick me?"

"What colour robes is he wearing?"

I growl under my breath as Miriam, Gina and Ebony bombard me with questions. Stupid, bloody Riddle.

This carried on all day. _All day._ And, trust me, that's no exaggeration. They even tried to sneak into my classes along with the rest of the fourth year but, thank _God_, they were spotted and sent away.

I fall into my seat on the Slytherin table, letting my head fall down onto the table with a thud.

"You alright there, love?" Tom smirks, sliding into the seat beside me, much to the dislike of Miriam.

"No." I mumble into the wood. I shift my head sideways and peer up at him through my hair. "Please can you ask someone soon? _Please_, Tom. Or I might just kill myself." He barks out a torrent of laughter, flicking me on the nose.

"Who would you suggest, then?"

I sit up, running a hand through my hair and looking up and down the table. I squint at Tom through my lashes and sigh, swinging my legs.

"I don't _know._ Hey, what about Myrtle!" I grin and he groans, shoving me into Lisette on my other side.

"There's nothing wrong with Myrtle." I protest, poking him in the chest. He snorts into his bowl of soup, giving me a crinkling smile.

"Bliss, _everything_ is wrong with Myrtle."

I shrug. "She's not _so_ bad."

He narrows his eyes at me, sipping some pumpkin juice out of his goblet. "Who are you going with, anyway?"

I scowl at him. "No-one, because you keep scaring them all away!"

It was true. Every time anybody boy came up to me with a rose or something cute and dorky like that, he would scare them away underneath his death glare and stupid threats.

"They were all prat's anyway."

"No they were not, Tom!"

"Yes they were, dear." He grins. "I mean, seriously; a Hufflepuff?"

"There's nothing wrong with Michael Moore." I say stiffly, crossing my arms. He scowls into his now empty bowl, looking up at me through his waves.

"What, do you love him, then?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! No, I don't!" I huff and his face brightens.

"Good."

**So you still haven't got anyone to go to the dance with, then?**

I raise an eyebrow at Tom across the room, who's apparently intent on listening to Slughorn in advanced potions, and a small smile creeps on his lips.

_No._

I charm the note back over to him, leaning back over my book. I had no hope in hell on getting a decent date, now that it was so close to the fling. Oh, great.

**Can I ask you something? About the ball…**

I grin at the piece of paper. Oh my days, was he really going to ask me?

_Go on._

**Well, do you think I should wear a green tie or a silver tie, I'm not really sure what will go best :)**

_Go to hell._

Moments later Tom is sent out of the classroom, by a bemused Horace Slughorn, wheezing after the aftermath of a severe laughing fit; tears of amusement shining in his eyes.

**I'm kidding, love. So, well, do you want to go with me, then?x**

I fall off my chair as the letter lands on my book, falling down hard on the ground. Proffesor Slughorn, even more alarmed, sends me up to the Hospital Wing for some peculiar reason. Old fuss pot. Tom grins as I walk out, propped up against the wall oh-so-casually.

"Are you joking?"

"No, darling. I'm Tom Riddle." He rolls his eyes, a smug look on his face. I groan under my breath, nudging him with my foot.

"You know what I mean."

"I wasn't." He shakes his head, dark hair falling in his eyes.

"Well, then, sure. Why not?"

"You tell me, love." He winks and I blush, looking down at my shoes.

"Hey, Bliss?"

"Mmmmhmmm?" I grin at him through my hair, and he smirks back, taking a step towards me until our foreheads meet rather suddenly with a clunk that makes me squeak, jumping away with my hand to my head. Bloody Merlin! Um, ow?

"Oh Hell, Bliss, I'm sorry." He gapes, flushed a salmon pink as he stumbles towards me, pushing my hair back to inspect the bump. I push his hand away but he shrugs me off, prodding the bruise.

"OW!" I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest and pouting like a small child. He rolls his eyes, still blushing slightly.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?" He says mockingly, eyes trained with mine. I grin, poking my tongue out at him.

"Well, you could use magic, y'know."

"Nah." He winks, flicking me on the nose with a strand of hair. "This way's _much_ more effective." I roll my eyes as he leans down to peck the bruise. What a load of tosh, Tom Riddle.

"Tom, m' boy." We jump apart as Slughorn's head appears from behind his office door, his eyes narrowed. "You can come in now. Of course, you too, Miss Murphy." He adds quickly to me as I play with the hem of my skirt. "As long as there's no permanent damage done." His face crinkles into a smile as he disappears back into the classroom, the door shutting with a soft click. I hear Tom groan as he slouches towards the room, scowling. I catch the end of his sleeve before he can go any further, pulling him backwards. He blinks, ginning at me.

"What?"

"I think…" Oh blimey, should I or shouldn't I say that? Might be a tiny bit flirtatious but, well, it's now or never. He narrows his eyes, taking a tentative step toward me.

"You think…?"

"I think I hurt my lips too." I blush awkwardly, looking down at the floor. Blimey, there are lots of spiders about. And dust. And how the hell did my shoes get that muddy, I –

My thoughts are cut short as I'm pulled up into the air around the waist, backwards into the wall behind me with a pair of lips connected to mine. We both pull away, grinning like idiots and wide eyed.

"Better?" He mumbles sheepishly, grinning through his hair at me smugly.

"Much."


	6. Chapter 6

"Do you want a drink, love?" Tom grins into my hair and I snort, poking him in the ribs. The Christmas Ball is in full swing at the moment…Hell, even the teachers have got their groove on!

"Alright, then." I say loudly over the beat of the music and he winks, disappearing in the direction of the punch table. Lisette and Leander appear at my sides, both flushed and smiling.

"Bliss!" Lissy squeals, suffocating me into a hug. I'm just about crushed as Leander joins in too and splutter into my hand as they both let me go. Lisette smirks apologetically, bobbing on her toes in time to the music. "How _are_ you?" She winks and I roll my eyes, shoving her slightly.

"I'm fine. Great even." I hug my elbows, flicking off a bit of stray mistletoe from my hair. "What about you two lovebirds, anyway?" I snort and the groan, both blushing. "Go on, shoo! Go back to loving in the corner over there." I wave my hand around, snickering.

"I hate you." Leander scowls and I grin, ruffling his hair.

"You love me really." I bat my eyelids and he swats me on the arm, swallowed up into the sea of party goers.

5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes. I narrow my eyes as the clock ticks around and around. Where the bloody hell was he? I stand on my tiptoes, looking around. God, I bet I look like a right prat. Great.

I shove my way through the crowds, tumbling out into the empty corridor, just a few stragglers giggling uncontrollably as they fall through the doors. I squint up and down the corridor for any sign of Tom but, no. It's like he's vanished into thin air.

I cough as a shed load of dust rains down onto my head, making me sneeze. Footsteps echo on the floor above, along with a whispering chant of some sort. Blimey, we really are a weird bunch her, aren't we?

I skip up the staircase, heels clipping on the newly varnished floor. A figure slithers out of the darkness, stylish dress robes illuminated by the moonlight. Tom. I'm just about to call his name when a slithering makes me stop, clanging through the wall beside me. I shiver and almost scream when tiny little spiders cross over my silver shoes, scurrying away through nooks and cranny's. I shiver and up ahead, Tom whispers something, some foreign language or whatever. I'm not entirely sure who he's talking to, but I doubt he's just mumbling to himself. He disappears through an open doorway and I scowl. The girl's bathroom.

I pad over the floorboards, careful not to make any horse like noise through my clogs. I lean down to unbuckle the straps to relieve my aching ankles just outside the room and gasp, widening my eyes at the sparkling tiles. And, just like that, I fall forward like a board, whacking my head on the way down…

However, that was not before I saw the flashing red eyes of Tom Marvelo Riddle Jr, grin a mile wide as he addressed a slimy, green serpent; it's scales rippling with muscle. Then Myrtle, tumbling out of her cubical, stunned as the green slits of snake eyes bored into her brown eyes. The little colour in her pale face drained and she crumpled to the floor, glasses knocked clean of her face. Dead.

And that's how I knew, that it wasn't just something that had Petrified Darius. It was s_omeone_, as well. Someone I thought I knew, but, I guess I never did.


End file.
